Sorry it took so long to update. This was a hard chapter to get out. I hope it turned out okay. I won't belabor this, but just put it up. Usual disclaimers apply.
"Did you tell him?" Sandy asked gravely as he walked into the family later the same day. Seth and Ryan were seated on the sofa with a game console in their hands and eyes peeled to the screen.
"Hi Dad," Seth said, glancing up at his father for a split moment and then back at the screen. "Oh no you don't." He jammed his thumbs on the button and twisted his shoulders with a shout of glee. "Gotcha."
"Hey Sandy," Ryan said, putting down the game console, not at all disappointed that he was defeated yet again.
"So, did you tell him?" Sandy repeated.
"Tell him what?" Seth asked, looking from his father to Ryan trying to figure out what the big secret was. "Oh. You made a decision about the adoption." He looked at his father's expressionless face and back at Ryan and his face fell. "So you decided against it. That's okay. You'll always be my brother. Like Kavalier and Clay. We don't need some piece of paper for it to be true."
"I appreciate it man," Ryan said, "But there will be an official paper."
"You're serious?"
Ryan nodded his head, letting go of the smile he had been trying so hard to suppress. "I told your parents this morning."
"Our parents," corrected Seth as he jumped up from the couch and wrapped his arms around Ryan.
"Our parents," amended Ryan.
"Mom's going to be home real soon," Sandy interrupted. "So you guys better go up and get ready for dinner. Tonight we celebrate."
Saturday morning the sun spilled into Ryan's room. He sat up in bed blinking, trying to figure out what felt different. Everything looked the same. The posters hadn't changed, the CDs were still spilling onto his desk where he had left them, and his schoolbooks were scattered on the floor around his bed. Then he realized what it was. It was the third day in a row without any nightmares. He felt rested. He felt refreshed. He felt safe.
Clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Ryan shuffled down to the kitchen. His sandy hair was tousled and there was still sleep in his eyes. Sandy was leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. His black hair was wet, indicating to Ryan that he was back from his early morning surfing.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Sandy said cheerfully.
"Sleepyhead? I'm the only one up besides you."
"Actually, Kirsten is at a Yoga class and Seth took Summer out for breakfast."
"What time is it?"
"It's ten."
Ryan went around Sandy and pulled a mug out of the cabinet. "I don't remember when was the last time I slept so late," he said pouring coffee into the mug. "It feels great."
"Sleep is good."
"Sleep is great." Ryan sipped his coffee, peering at Sandy over the rim of his cup. "I haven't had a nightmare the past few nights."
Sandy grinned. He didn't state the obvious. Ryan hadn't had any nightmares since he had agreed to the adoption. "That's fabulous Ryan. That's just absolutely fantastic."
Sandy put down his mug and newspaper and threw his arms around Ryan. At first, Ryan's back and shoulders grew rigid when Sandy's arms enveloped him. But then he realized that he had better get used to hugs, because the Cohens were a touchy-feely bunch. Slowly he relaxed and let himself fall into Sandy's embrace.
"So, are you ready to go see your father?" Sandy asked, letting go of Ryan. "I called the jail and told them we'd be there around one. So we'd better leave soon."
Ryan shook his head. "Don't know if I'll be ready, but I'll be dressed and in the car."
"Semantics, Ryan. Semantics." Sandy tapped the top of Ryan's head with the newspaper and said, "I'll see you in thirty minutes out front," and left the kitchen.
The bounce in Ryan's step was gone and his feet felt like jello as he climbed the stairs. He had told Kirsten and Sandy that he wanted to look Roger in the eye to ask him about signing over his rights, but he wasn't sure that he could do it. He was putting up a brave front for the Cohens, who assumed that because he made up his mind to let them adopt him, the thought of his father relinquishing his rights to Ryan without a blink of an eye no longer fazed him.
After a quick shower, Ryan put on a clean pair of jeans and a black button down shirt, and then ran down the steps to meet Sandy in the driveway. He was glad he didn't have time to eat, because he wasn't sure that he could keep anything down. As he approached the front door, Ryan's step slowed and he hesitated as he put his hand on the doorknob.
He didn't hear Sandy, but felt him as he stepped up beside him. "You're not doing this alone. We're doing this together." Sandy put a soothing hand on Ryan's elbow and gently geared him to the car.
The ninety-minute drive was silent. Sandy tried to talk a couple of times, but stopped when he saw that Ryan needed to be left alone with his own thoughts. Ryan leaned his head against the glass and watched the scenery pass him by. He didn't allow himself to think about where he was going, just what it would mean in the end. Ryan must have dozed off, because suddenly, the car came to a stop, the ignition turned off and Sandy was gently shaking his shoulder. They had arrived.
The visiting room was similar to the room where Kirsten and Seth had visited him all those months ago when he had been in Juvie. The room was gray and dank, with little natural light coming in. A stench of stale smoke, sweat, and unwashed bodies filled the room. But this time, Ryan was on the other side of the table. He came in to the room with a visitor's badge clipped to his collar. Sandy stood glued to his side, his close proximity propping Ryan up.
There was an empty round table in middle of the room and Ryan slid onto the hard uncomfortable bench that was attached to it. He looked down, studying the tabletop, surprised to see graffiti etched into it. They had gone through such a rigid security check that he wondered how anyone was able to smuggle anything in that was sharp enough to etch all those profanities and declarations of love and innocence in.
While they waited for his father, Ryan sat with his hands clasped between his knees and his feet tapped rhythmically to a song only he could hear in his head. He tried to work out how he would ask his father, but he kept drawing a blank. He just hoped the right words would come when he needed them, since words so often failed him.
It seemed like an eternity before Roger was escorted, hands in cuffs, to the visiting room. A guard unlocked the metal bracelets and roughly pushed the prisoner to his waiting visitors. Roger steadied himself before continuing to Ryan and Sandy with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Ryan."
Ryan tried to force his lips into a smile and to say something. But all his words were stuck in his throat.
"You look better than the last time I saw you."
"I was getting over a bad flu by Mom's funeral."
Roger shook his head in approval. "These people taking good care of you?"
Ryan nodded his head.
"Have you heard from your brother?" asked Roger.
Ryan shook his head. "He told me to forget him," he said quietly. "I went to visit him Thanksgiving and that's what he said." Ryan wouldn't meet Roger's eyes, but studied the names of all those who claimed innocence that were etched into the table.
"Never forget your family," Roger insisted.
Ryan brought his head up sharply. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"It doesn't matter how we've treated each other or what we've done in the past. Family is family. Blood is blood."
"That's not true," Ryan retorted in an angry whisper. "What you did in the past what everyone did in the past does matter. Maybe you didn't hit me much, but you let Mom beat the crap out of me. Then you got yourself locked up, so Trey and I had no one to turn to. And to get away from the degenerates Mom was dating all Trey and I had was to turn to the streets.
"The best thing Trey ever did for me was get me locked up for stealing that car, because I met Sandy."
"Your do good lawyer?" Roger asked sarcastically.
"My father. He's been more of a father-" Sandy put a restraining hand on Ryan. Without words he conveyed to Ryan that he needed to calm down. His tirade would get him nowhere with Roger. "The Cohens took me in when no one would. They take care of me, like when I had the flu. They took care of Mom, so she wouldn't be buried in Potter's field."
"So is that why you came all the way up here after all this time? To rub my nose in it that you've found a new family?"
"I came to ask you to give up your parental rights so that Sandy and Kirsten can adopt me."
Silent filled the table. The hum of murmurs from around the room rang in Ryan's ears as he waited for Roger to respond.
Sandy, who until then had been silent, started to speak. "Mr. Atwood, my wife, my son and I we love Ryan. We want to take care of him."
"Why do you need to adopt him?" Roger asked, turning to acknowledge Sandy for the first time since he had sat down. "You have custody. You've made him part of your family. Why make it legal? Why make Ryan give up the rest of his family."
"That's not what we're asking of Ryan. In fact, I offered that only my wife adopt Ryan."
"I want them to adopt me. I want to be their son."
"You'd call him Dad?" asked Roger.
Ryan shrugged.
"You're going to call his wife Mom?"
Ryan shrugged again.
"So in order for this to happen, I have to sign over my parental rights, say I want nothing to do with my kid anymore."
Sandy pulled out a folder with the necessary legal documents inside. "Ryan could still see you. That would be up to him. We don't want Ryan to give up who he is or who he was. His life in Chino is part of who he is."
"If I don't sign. If you don't adopt him, you still going to take care of him?"
"Of course."
"You still going to send him to that fancy private school?"
"Yes."
"So why should I sign?"
"Because it's what I want," Ryan insisted, finally bringing himself back into the conversation. "I didn't make the decision over night. I thought about this a lot. I want to be a Cohen."
"Are you going to change your name?"
"I'll be Ryan Atwood-Cohen."
Roger leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table. He stared intently at his son and the do-good lawyer. Finally, he shook his head. "No. I won't do it. You're my kid, Ryan. I'm not signing any paper that will deny it or give up that right."